


gravel

by Kuro_iplrrr



Series: Sonatas [5]
Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Childhood Friends, Gen, Horror, Is this actually MCD, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Questionable use of Robotics, Thriller, Yandere (?) Character, obsessive character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_iplrrr/pseuds/Kuro_iplrrr
Summary: My face is on the ground.I can taste the gravel on my tongue. The earthy bite, the metallic taste. My jaw clenches.Is that... my blood?Am I going to die?
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Sonatas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542460
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	gravel

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: hey, it's me again,, sorry,,,, i haven't been writing a lot lately. i hope you enjoy this one.
> 
> this was super experimental and kinda poetic in a sense,,, sorry if it doesn't make such a coherent story.
> 
> warnings: if you didn't like enraptured, you're not gonna like this one either.
> 
> crossposted from wattpad, originally published 01/17/2020

_My face is on the ground._

_I can taste the gravel on my tongue. The earthy bite, the metallic taste. My jaw clenches._

_Is that... my blood?_

_A sudden jolt above me pushes my nose deeper into the cement, I can feel the rubble on my lashes. I can hear the rustle of the pebbles under me. My eyes search around, only to be met by a sea of grey. It doesn't take long for me to feel the swell of my lungs._

_I can't breathe._

_I wheeze, the pain runs from my spine into my skull, squeezing down on my temples and drilling into my eyes._

_Am I going to die?_

\---

When Eddy was sixteen, he lost to Brett in a local violin competition.

He stood on the stage, slightly off to the right; while Brett towered over him for the first time since they were elementary school kids.

Strangely, there was no remorse in Eddy's veins. Only a sense of awe and joy. His mind replays how carefully Brett's arm moved with the bow, the pristine form of his hand perched against the wood, the muscles underneath the too-large suit Brett was wearing.

He played beautifully.

He was happy for Brett.

He looked up, seeing the judge come up to carefully place the medal around Brett's neck, handing him the platinum trophy. Brett smiled, a rare smile that showed off his silver-lined rows of teeth. The corners of Brett's eyes crinkled ever so slightly, and they shimmered with unshed tears.

When Brett turned around to look at Eddy, matching his medal and trophy with Eddy's shimmering silver, his hold dropped against the platinum plaque bearing his name.

Time seemed to stop; the applause came in half time.

When Brett wrapped his arms around Eddy's in a bone-crushing hug, Eddy couldn't dare keep a straight face.

The two violinists smiled against each other's' shoulders, showered with a golden limelight.

\---

_The only light he can fathom is the burn of the white streetlight glaring into his back. Sweat trickles from his brow down to his nose._

_The pain spreads, not anymore making his head pound, but turning his limbs to jelly. Even the slightest attempt to lift his arm sends jolts of hurt up into his brain._

_He tries the other arm._

_His brain doesn't register any movement._

_He tries again._

_No luck._

_It takes all his strength to turn his head towards this arm, checking to see if it was still there, because why couldn't he feel anything-_

_A silent scream rips through the night._

_His arm isn't there anymore._

_Tears begin to brew in the corner of his eyes. Broken glass rips through his cheek, forcing him to shut his jaw._

_He still tastes the gravel on his tongue._

\---

When Eddy was nineteen, he told Brett he was going to study medicine.

The sadness in Brett's eyes is expected. The hurt look his best friend gives him makes his heart clench in every way. After years of being together, they would be separated for the first time in a long while.

Brett entered the Con not that long ago. Eddy wanted to follow his footsteps.

But he had dreams to pursue.

His glasses-wearing partner tried to convince him. He wanted Eddy by his side.

Just like how they've always been.

The protests weren't enough to convince Eddy.

When Brett met him on the driveway, Eddy's bags settled in the car, and Brett gave him another bone-crushing hug, Eddy couldn't help but feel the tears pool behind his eyes.

The two friends bid their goodbyes, sealing off promises they would surely keep.

\---

_An arm lifts him up and takes him inside. A sudden wetness meets his cheek, hands wander around, fondling, checking, grabbing, bandaging._

_He relaxes._

_The hold is familiar. It's warm, it's careful, it's gentle._

_The hands are keeping him safe._

_A voice pierces through his ears, sending a sudden wave of ringing and making him wince in pain._

_The person seems to understand and keeps quiet._

_Time passes._

_"Brett..."_

_It's his name._

_"Brett, oh my god,"_

_Eddy...?_

_Arms reach around engulf him in a tight bone-crushing hug. Eddy is careful not to nudge any sensitive part on Brett's body. "Eddy..."_

_"Oh my god, I missed you," Eddy whispered against his ear, tightening his grip just a bit. "I missed you so much."_

_Brett's confusion dissolves into relief. He melts into the comforting embrace. "Thank you, Eddy."_

_Brett lets out a sob and continues, digging his fingers into Eddy's back as he weeps._

\---

When Eddy was twenty-eight, he let Brett into his clinic for the first time.

Brett and Eddy never kept out of touch. Every so often, they'd chat or call each other, giving life updates, random anecdotes about uni, or discussing new releases from the classical music world.

Brett's graduation came and went. His first gig as a musician started. Eddy's graduation came and went. His internship started. Brett finally settled with the West Australian Symphony Orchestra, the youngest concertmaster they've ever had. Eddy finally received his doctorate, smiling with his newly registered professional badge.

Eddy assured him that it was perfectly fine that Brett didn't visit him. He insisted to keep the communication strictly online until the clinic was built.

So a few weeks ago, when Eddy said that he was finally opening his new clinic, Brett felt the urge to skip three towns over just to visit him.

Brett didn't understand how unlucky he was.

\---

_It's here again... The taste of... gravel._

_He feels like he's been in this exact position before._

_The numbing pain rises. Again, from the spine, to the back of his skull, pressing his temples, and finally digging into his eyes._

_Brett wants to cry._

_The sudden force revisits him. This time, he's too scared to look._

_It doesn't run through his arm, which makes him relax._

_He was wrong in doing so._

_A scream is ripped from his throat when he feels it against his leg, right where the dip of his thigh exposes the muscle there. Brett's fingers dig into the concrete. His nails scratch against the Tears force their way from his eyes and he chokes._

_The taste of gravel is too much._

_I'm gonna die._

_\---_

When Eddy is twenty-nine, Brett has been with him in his home for a year now.

Brett announced his intention to move when they were busy propping up some of Eddy's newly framed certificates on the walls. Eddy sputtered at the words, but only offered Brett the widest smile and the calmest response.

"Okay."

The smile on Brett's face made Eddy swell with happiness.

"Wanna move in with me?" Eddy asked, just as Brett got finished straightening a certificate on some robot medicine seminar Eddy attended.

It was Brett's turn to sputter. "Are you sure?"

"Of course! It'll be like a forever-sleepover."

Now, Brett is practicing a piece the orchestra was debuting with a new, upcoming composer. He shuffles with his bow hold and wrestles with some of the double stops before pausing. He rolls his shoulder and frowns.

"Feeling okay?" Eddy comes up behind him, two mugs of coffee in hand. He hands one of the mugs to Brett, who gratefully sets down his violin for a sip. "Good morning, by the way."

"Mornin'," Brett greets. "My shoulder's been feeling really weird recently."

Eddy halts. His eyes gaze up and down Brett's figure. "Maybe you're getting tense. Concert's in a few days, right?"

Brett snickers. "Yeah, gotta get myself hyped up for that." He downs the entire mug in a few chugs before standing, stretching his arms up in a large yawn. He hears his elbow crack obnoxiously. "Oh, _damn_."

Eddy's eyes are fixed on the arm, he stands but his gaze never leaves Brett's elbow. Etched on his face is a mix of worry and... contempt? "Don't overwork yourself now,"

The words go right over Brett's head. "Yeah, yeah."

He feels a certain numbness in his leg.

He ignores it and keeps playing.

\---

_I'm awake._

_Brett blinks. It's the white streetlight._

Is that really a streetlight?

Brett blinks.

_The gravel under my feet feels smooth._

Is this really gravel?

_My legs take me closer. There are black bags there._

What are in the bags?

_Something crunches under my feet. I look down._

_I should be bleeding._

Broken glass peeks from underneath the foot.

_I'm awake._

\---

When Brett is thirty, he discovers the basement under Eddy's clinic.

He plays the violin beautifully. But he forgets how long he spends practicing. Almost every time he finds the perfect way to play a particular note, his body immediately adapts. It runs on the code, the pattern.

He barely misses a note. His shifts move effortlessly. His pinkie can do the best vibrato he's ever heard in years.

But he feels hollowed out.

What changed?

His music, feeling less of himself.

Just _music_.

Not his own music.

So he explores the clinic when Eddy's out.

\---

_It's gravel again._

But I'm awake.

_I'm crying._

But I raise my hand to my cheeks. I don't feel any tears.

_It's cold._

I'm cold.

I reach out to the black bag. There is a small object peeking out from the lip of the bag.

_I reach out._

I'm awake.

\---

When Brett is thirty, he realizes he's not Brett Yang anymore.

Creeping into Eddy's basement is totally uncalled for. But wandering into the dimly-lit room makes a wave of memory flood into his brain in a fuzzy haze. The familiar environment, the light, the floor, they gnaw at him.

The feel of the floor under his feet.

_It's gravel._

He stumbles when it finally dawns on him.

It's a hand.

A fucking hand was in the bag.

Brett inhales sharply and bile rises up his throat.

Nothing comes up.

He wraps a hand over his mouth, silencing his own breathing. An all too familiar scream begins to rip against his throat. He forces it down.

When his eyes adjust to the darkness, terror runs through his veins.

A hand. An arm. A leg. A toe. A finger.

Wires. So many wires.

Skin.. Metal. Bones Rods.

Blood pooled against the floor.

_I'm awake._

Footsteps.

Brett ducks for cover, burying himself in the corner against a dark part of the room.

The light flickers on. Here, the streetlight- no, the surgical light doesn't reach. He tucks his leg in.

Images of the body parts go through Brett's mind.

_Fuck,_

The footsteps come even closer.

He begins to hear muttering. "I wonder where Brett is,"

_Eddy...?_

"He shouldn't have gone far, now that I've changed his legs."

Even though Brett couldn't see him, he hears the smile etched in the younger man's voice.

"Well, it's fine." Eddy seems to mutter to himself. He hears the rustling of the black bags as Eddy rummages through them.

Brett can only assume what Eddy was doing.

"Ah, these hands..." Eddy's voice becomes softer. "Playing the violin so well... These legs, so thin, so sculpted. Your arms, those movements..."

The realization makes Brett choke, his breath caught in the back of his throat. He holds it. Not sparing a single exhale.

"The wires are working well. Fake neurons, even the fake skin works good..." The other man pauses. "Slowly, I'll make you into the perfect violinist."

_My fingers dig into the gravel beneath me._

"You've noticed, Brett. You're not used to your new arm yet, but you've _noticed_. Your playing is stiff, but so, _so_ perfect. So beautiful..."

The tone makes Brett panic.

_Did he see me?_

He slowly decides to spare a glance, peeking around the corner.

It was the wrong move.

Eddy's face is right up against his.

His jaw unlatches, a shriek barely escaping his lungs. But a cool blade against his throat keeps the sound buried.

"Now, now," Eddy tells him, grabbing his arm and pulling him upward. He pushes Brett onto the ground.

Brett knows this position, knows this feeling. When his glasses fall off, his head tilts to the side.

_Gravel._

"I didn't want this to happen this way..."

"What have you done to me?" The words come out in short staccato.

"I'm doing what's good for you, Brett." Eddy says, waving the knife around nonchalantly. "You've always been such an amazing violinist."

Brett's eyes follow the movement of the blade. "Why are you doing this..."

The question hangs in the air.

Brett gazes into Eddy's eyes. Cold, heartless, hollow.

He was a robot, gazing into the eyes of the most inhumane person he's ever met.

"I just want you to be the best violinist. And I'll do everything to make that happen. I wanted it all to myself at first, your arms, your mind, your heart, your smile... But I thought about it... and tearing you apart without putting you back together... seems such a waste."

Eddy pushes the knife into Brett's neck.

A silent scream.

Eddy reaches into the cavity and pulls out a wire.

"You're almost perfect, Brett."

The end of the blade comes down, lower, and lower and lower until it stops in the middle of his shoulder blades, right behind his heart.

"This is the final step."

The knife digs into his back.

\---

When Brett is thirty, he has forgotten.

"Good luck on your show tonight!" Eddy greets him, waving from the doors of the clinic.

Brett simply smiles and keeps walking, his violin case latched to his back. A skip adds to his steps and his silhouette fades down the alleyway.

_I'm alive._

**Author's Note:**

> chapter warnings: m*rder (i guess?), violence, blood, body horror, depictions of missing limbs, and the questionable use of robotics
> 
> endnote: thank you for reading,,, and i'm sorry,,,, for this cursed content,,, this is my first fic of 2020 lmao
> 
> this was very heavily inspired by a novella i read a while ago ((couGHSFIVENIGHTSATFREDDYSiMSORRYcouGHS)) and i wanted to put my own spin on it. sorry it's also kinda short,,, just wanted to write something again, and this took me more or less than four hours to write hahaha
> 
> hope you enjoyed (?) it.


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